


One Week Later

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7319398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Gauda Prime Blake finds he has not convinced his former colleagues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week Later

‘We’re leaving,’ Tarrant said. ‘All of us.’ He was feeling guilty about what the group were about to do – but it was for the best, or so he was still trying to convince himself. And the others agreed with him – sort of… he hoped. That was why he had brought Vila to back him up. ‘Including Avon.’  
‘What?’ asked Blake in surprise. As far as he was aware Avon was still in the sick bay of the base, recovering from injuries sustained in the attempted takeover by Federation troopers, and not in a position to agree to anything: and operating too long at his physical and mental limits had caught up with him, delaying his recovery. The back up rebels on the base had reached the tracking gallery the proverbial five minutes too late and there had been a confrontation with the invading troopers – and Avon had been shot, fortunately damaged rather than killed. The protection Blake had been wearing had resulted in less damage than might have been expected, and weapons set at stun had saved the rest.  
‘We’re leaving Gauda Prime. For a while at least,’ Tarrant said. The theoretical possibility of rejoining Blake and his colleagues made the statement easier.  
‘At least tell me why – I don’t understand.’ Blake realised as he spoke that these were the wrong words.  
‘You and your games – that was the phrase Deva used to me.’ Tarrant had come to like Deva in the short time he had known the computer expert. But, then, most people seemed to, even Avon in their brief interactions so far. As Vila said, as the two men worked in the same field, there was no need for Avon to explain or justify his feelings to anyone, even to himself.  
‘You do understand why I have to test every one?’ Blake asked, trying to prevent a pleading tone come into his voice.  
‘I can understand, sort of. Why you’re here on a dump like Gauda Prime now is,’ Tarrant was sure Soolin would understand his remark were she in the room, ‘and why you have tests. But they failed. With Arlen and with us.’ He was being harsher than he intended – but he was putting on the show partially for himself. ‘I think we can all agree that it was bad luck everything happened at once – Arlen and the Federation and us all coming together.’  
Arlen was as much a construct as Vinni had been – a role that had been created for a Federation officer to fill. Had there been slightly more time to consider the matter it might have been realised that “Arlen” was too perfect for what she claimed to be – but it had been planned so that there was not enough time.  
‘But we were able to deal with the Federation forces – and the clone is again safe.’ While Avon, and Vila, had known that the clone existed, they had not expected to find both Blakes on the same base, and that there would be a failure of communications between all concerned.  
‘Yes – but I have the feeling you used him,’ Vila said. Somehow Gan kept on wandering into his thoughts when he tried to resolve the matter – too difficult to discuss here and now, even after all this time. ‘I think Avon too accepts that it was bad luck, that the clone did not know the Federation forces were already in the base and we had seen them – and that you here did not know Avon had been betrayed so many times.’ Said like that who could blame Avon for acting first and thinking afterwards – like Tarrant had a tendency to do.  
‘You must have realised,’ Tarrant said, ‘that sooner or later someone would come to believe that you #were# running a bounty hunter set up, and you #were# going to sell them out? I’ve seen it before. You could say we just pulled the short straw.’ He was prepared to acknowledge that.  
‘Have you never done something which seems a good idea at the time?’ Blake said.  
‘And what do you think it’ll do to your reputation?’ Vila asked, trying to explain something he felt. ‘We on the Scorpio – and quite a few of your lot – never claimed to be more than what we were.’ He smiled. ‘Present it slightly differently and we could do what we enjoy, legitimately, whatever the system in force, and get rich on it. We check your security, and make the same amount of money as we would’ve stolen by showing you how we would have done it and how to stop the likes of us, including how to keep those who object to things as they are happy by making often minor changes. We can operate at the edge of legitimacy, because that’s what we’re being hired to deal with. Even if we admit to helping those willing to pay us most, because they are rebels, and we like working on the small scale, rather than a massive Federation project, and we survive whoever’s in charge.’ There were many stages between support of the Federation and supporting the rebels. Perhaps, Vila suddenly thought, it was time to let the next generation of rebels try their chance – though he would miss the excitement of the role – some of the time, particularly if it was of the kind he had just described. He would suggest it to Avon when he had the opportunity. ‘But you Blake – you are not as free as we are. If your method leads to confusion with those most willing to listen to you, it could be even more so with those who don’t know you: your cover could be twisted against you.’  
Blake sighed – he knew what Vila meant. ‘Sometimes you have to do something for the present, regardless of the consequences.’ Hadn’t Avon called in Servalan that time with Ushton, to get rid of Travis? ‘I am trying to do something about this whole thing.’ But, seemingly, not enough.  
‘We came here looking for someone.’ Tarrant said. ‘The Blake Vila and Avon remembered, that everybody was talking about… when they remember who you are. And a haven of sorts – though we half-expected that it would probably be little more than putting some of your stuff on the Scorpio before we all went in several ships pell-mell to another planet, five minutes ahead of the Federation, with a fight in it.’  
‘We half expected that to be the case too, when a group of rebels did discover us and decided to investigate,’ Blake replied, equally willing to concede on less-than-consequentials. ‘So what will you do?’  
‘We haven’t quite decided yet.’ Possibly more conferences, or linking up with specialists – and a few “spectacular acts” that helped the rebels, such as the Liberator had done in the old days – Tarrant had not thought any further. The suggestion Vila had just made did seem a reasonable option – it should be developed and promoted.  
‘Tarrant – some things have to be built up.’ Blake understood Tarrant’s desire for action, and was almost convinced to return to the grand actions he had once favoured.  
‘Don’t you realise what’s happening Blake,’ Vila asked suddenly, putting together what he felt and some of the comments that others had made in the group’s travels. ‘Things have changed. For a time we were still Blake’s people – even Tarrant and Dayna – but at some point we became Avon’s people. You #were# the most well known rebel – but you’ve been invisible since Star One. Sooner or later someone will decide that they’ve got a clear field – that you are dead or out of the action, and they can take on your mantle.’ There were a number of rebels who were gaining fame outside their immediate regions – Vila realised he would be prepared to put his money on some of them becoming more general and notable leaders.  
Blake had rehearsed the argument in his mind countless times, but it was still a shock to hear someone else say it.  
‘And then there are the rumours and whispers here on the base,’ Tarrant said. ‘They are why we are leaving.’  
‘My people accept that what happened was a mistake, a product of confusion.’ Blake had made it clear that this was the position he was going to take – and it was close enough to the truth to be generally accepted.  
‘They are prepared to discount Arlen.’ Tarrant said, ‘given some of the vicious names they have for her and others who do such things. You are always going to have doubts and worries when two groups link up, especially when there was a misunderstanding to start with.’ He and Soolin, both speaking from experience, had repeated this to everybody sufficiently often for it to be accepted, and there were the makings of a new cooperation even in the limited time they had had. ‘Some people do doubt us, what we’re doing, and one can understand why,’ he admitted – he felt the reverse in a couple of cases. ‘And some people now doubt you.’ And that was the nub of the matter.  
‘I picked them all myself – they are loyal to me.’ Blake protested.  
‘Perhaps. But your system let Arlen through,’ Vila said, ‘and that raises an uncertainty. Deva’s not the only one to have had doubts that the bounty hunter act might go wrong. We’ve been talking about what we’ve done since the Intergalactic War – OK some of them think we should’ve done more for the rebellion, and perhaps they’re right.’ But Cally had been the only true rebel among them, and she had not prompted them to do so… but they had saved some of Cally’s people, and Teal and Vandor from Servalan’s machinations, and had helped others achieve something better than they began with. The rebels could not complain about the elimination of Piri-Cancer or Shrinker either. ‘But they accept we were doing something positive with the conferences we were arranging.’ Zukan and associates had been one of several such meetings, actual and projected. Other rebels elsewhere were starting to do the same – it almost seemed, given some of the discussions, as if there was a competition to produce the biggest alliance of such a nature, and similar activities. Vila had picked up the phrase “an idea whose time has come” somewhere and it appeared to be apt under the circumstances. He could enjoy getting involved in that – at least one knew when the target had been achieved.  
‘And that’s what they’re saying against you Blake,’ Tarrant said – not that he would normally repeat gossip, ‘that we did something, got people to link up, whatever, but you’re just sitting here seemingly doing nothing much.’  
‘I have explained to them what I have been trying to do,’ Blake said. He suddenly did not have the energy to argue the case, that his plan required much slow groundwork. It was everybody’s fault and nobody’s fault that the doubts had been sown. He would now have to spend some time re-establishing the trust that had been lost – time that could have been better spent fostering the success of the rebellion. …And as Vila had said, there were other rebels around… he was not giving up.  
Then all the niggling doubts came to him. What was the point of it all? What had he achieved himself? Star One was an ambiguous victory – had his quarrel with Travis enabled the alien invasion to begin or allowed the invasion to be stopped before it could have a chance of success?  
‘Blake?’ Vila asked, seeing the other man’s sudden uncertainty. Sometimes you could do the seemingly impossible, until somebody told you it was impossible – had the two of them just done that to Blake?  
‘I’ll be alright. I … am prone to self-doubt at times.’  
‘I know,’ Vila said sympathetically.  
Blake sighed. ‘I cannot stop you going, if you choose to do so. Tarrant: will you rejoin us when I have a vision you can understand, and a base you consider safe?’ Always leave the door open under such circumstances.  
‘Yes,’ Tarrant replied, though in his mind he was saying “perhaps.” He was, however, glad that Blake had recognised him as the leader of the group – for now at least. Perhaps he and Avon could work something out.  
‘We will be going to…’ Blake began.  
‘Don’t tell us,’ Tarrant replied. ‘You can contact Orac and tell us where to cross paths again. Safer.’ He hoped Avon would understand what he was doing – but Avon had not told them about Blake until it was absolutely necessary. Which, Tarrant now accepted, was understandable.  
‘I need Orac for my plans,’ Blake said. But he had been on the Liberator for more than a year without Orac, and not had access to the computer since leaving the ship. And – who knew whether Arlen had not made some obscure contact with her superiors which would take time to resolve itself: it was better that Orac was not with them, with the possibility of capture by the Federation.  
‘That’s the funny thing,’ Vila said. ‘Orac wants to go with us. Thinks we are more likely to take it to interesting places, and do interesting things for some reason.’ The problem was in getting Orac to agree with the humans’ definition of interesting. It also wished to meet more rebels – though whether to aid the opposition or further its own knowledge was not entirely clear. ‘And some of your folk have decided to join us.’ Several of them had useful skills.  
‘I can no more keep them than I can keep you – and they know some of my ideas and intentions – will you listen to them?’ Blake knew he was no longer leading the discussion. Even his own people were prepared to go with Avon.  
‘Yes,’ Tarrant said. ‘Come on Vila – we’ve got much to do.’ And he wanted them all to leave before their own doubts set in. Now to see who would convert words into deeds.

‘Do you think he’ll do anything?’ Vila asked Tarrant later, as they went to see how Avon and the now almost recovered Dayna were. They both knew Vila was referring to Blake.  
‘I hope so. He is the dream, the expression of opposition – however you care to define his role. I don’t want to change that “is” to “was” unless I have to.’ Tarrant knew, though he would never say so, that he wished to avoid the change for Avon’s sake… but he would be willing to do so if it came to it. If Blake’s dream could appeal to the supposedly unidealistic Avon, then there had to be something to it.  
They reached the base’s sickbay.  
‘What shall we do now?’ Avon asked on seeing them. He still felt frail, and he was disappointed with the way the meeting with Blake had turned out. During the past week he had been out of ideas of what to do next, too physically injured and mentally exhausted to concentrate.  
Vila looked at Avon in some dismay – was the other man defeated in his own way? Or just willing to let others take the lead for the present. ‘Find another base: like Xenon only better.’ This raised a smile. ‘We are being constantly thwarted by Servalan – can we use her somehow? What do they say with those martial arts – use your opponents’ strength to defeat them? Could we do it with the Federation when we’ve used it on her? Get her to chase rumours and cause damage to unpleasant bits of the Federation in the hope of finding us. Perhaps we could get in touch with Avalon. If she can raise rebellions on however many worlds now, and we can do negotiations, and link everything up even if others take over from us to do the boring bits of whatever we ought to be a winning team. We become the coordinators of everything and exchangers of information while others do all the hard stuff.’ A jumble of suggestions, but he knew that there was something in them. ‘And Orac will enjoy doing fifteen things at once – including looking for more computers which argue back with it.’  
Avon considered the ideas and nodded.  
‘You are talking what could be turned into something sensible Vila – what’s gone wrong?’ Avon asked – a flash of his old self. If the others wished to lead, he had decided, he would let them – unless they were going to disaster. Vila’s comments were a development of a number of earlier discussions, brought together in a slightly different way, and had possibilities… he preferred developing such ideas as theoretical projects over putting them into practice – which others #did# enjoy.  
‘The doctor said you need plenty of rest – so I was thinking for you.’ It raised the smile Vila had intended. Perhaps Avon #could# return to the person he had been whom Vila had liked. ‘And coming up with the ideas for others to put into practice.’  
‘And how will you bring Blake in to it?’ Avon asked. He had discussed matters with Blake – and whatever he had wanted from the other man was not presently to be found. Possibly if the Federation had not created a three-handed game things would have worked out differently.  
‘Let him decide – let him join us.’ The statement was slightly shocking… but less so than it might once have been.  
‘You are the nearest we have to a military expert – you plan what you can Tarrant.’ Orac’s suggestions about delegating work were eminently reasonable – and why shouldn’t Vila do it in turn?  
‘Orac – I have a task for you…’  
Orac had already started delegating the less interesting parts of what it had deduced it was going to be asked to do.  
‘By my calculations the next appropriate meeting of the two groups will be in eighteen standard months.’  
‘Orac,’ Vila said, ‘arrange things and coordinate activities sufficiently so that we do not repeat what happened here. You know what we want to achieve, and what works, so make suggestions along those lines.’  
‘That is eminently rational.’

****

Blake sat in his office, feeling melancholy. Some of his friends had come – and gone because they had not found what they had thought they wanted.  
Perhaps they were right – perhaps it was time to do something practical. His methods were too slow for what was required. What should he do? He had ordered the Liberator to attack Space Command long ago – and it had not toppled the Federation’s might. Nor had the attack on then President Servalan’s palace – but, from what he had been told there had been others manipulating the situation. The anti-Pylene 50 treatment was being passed around – soon the pacification program would reach its natural limits, and new drugs would be tried. What else could he be doing and be associated with?  
He had tried involvement in a political party – which had failed. On the Liberator he had had some success – providing a generally recognisable name. The destruction of Star One had not led to the permanent collapse of the Federation, and as Vila and Tarrant had said, building up a movement in the way he was now was too slow. Other rebel leaderships were emerging – though some had been in existence as he had roamed the Federation’s territories. What else was there?  
He was thinking himself into defeat. Having left the Liberator he had occasionally wondered how much of his success had been due to possession of the ship, and how much to himself and his abilities.  
Perhaps Tarrant had been right – he should be more visible. And he would have to decide upon his role in any post-Federation regime.  
Did he want any role at all?  
An interesting question. Perhaps he should simply fade into the background, let those who were now emerging take over the rebel movement. But why did that feel like he #was# betraying Avon?  
And himself.  
Orac had said something about a meeting in eighteen months – more than enough time to think of something then he and Avon could work together again.


End file.
